


Ginger Twink Gets Pounded by Older Men

by BookofOdym



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Infinity Inc. (Comics), Justice Society of America (Comics)
Genre: Anal Fisting, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Ball Fondling, Ball Sucking, Belts, Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, Fisting, Gangbang, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Orgy, Scent Kink, Spanking, Spitroasting, Sweat, Todd Rice fans do not interact, ball worship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:53:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29293965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookofOdym/pseuds/BookofOdym
Summary: Hank gets punished, in various different sexy ways.
Relationships: Carter Hall/Henry King Jr., Henry King Jr./Al Pratt, Henry King Jr./Alan Scott, Henry King Jr./Charles McNider, Henry King Jr./Jay Garrick, Henry King Jr./Ted Knight, Ted Grant/Henry King Jr.
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Me pointing at Alan: YOU ALWAYS END UP LIKE THIS STOP ENDING UP LIKE THIS

A few days had passed since the assorted children and godchildren of the JSA (and also one villain) had forced their way into the team’s Christmas meeting, and there hadn’t been any sign of retribution for that. In fact, Hector Hall’s monthly allowance had increased, a fact that you could hear Todd complaining about from the other side of the grounds. 

Hank had started to relax a little (the fact that having to listen to Todd complaining about Hector Hall got annoying fast notwithstanding), his own invasion of the JSA building had involved tearing a hole in their wall, and he had fully expected a chewing out about that. The longer that he went without seeing them, the higher the chances were that they had just decided to forget about it. 

He’d relaxed so much that when he got a very bad feeling upon waking up one morning, that he didn’t decide to follow his immediate instincts and call in sick from work. There was an eerie silence throughout Stellar Studios when he arrived, although he was actually slightly early. Unlike some people (Hec), he was capable of making an appearance before he was nearly 20 minutes late. 

With a shrug, Hank headed over to the coffee maker. He hadn’t received any news of a meeting, and with this bunch, it was just as likely that they’d all been called in for a disciplinary hearing. Somehow. Before work had even started for the day. Coffee was good today, Syl had a habit of trying to recreate the flavor how it used to be... in the 1940s, but someone must have gone out and gotten something else. 

He picked up thoughts from behind him, unfamiliar ones, which really just meant people not on the team, or who lived in his new building. He hadn’t interacted with many people since his father died, since he’d started developing telepathic powers, maybe eventually he would have a useful skill, but right now it was just ‘a person, possibly even someone I do know, is in my general vicinity’. 

He turned his head, and he saw Green Lantern regarding him... not with interest, more general distrust. Green Lantern, it was clear, was still somewhat angry with him for his little escapade a few days prior. Which made sense, Hank supposed, because he had knocked the man out. Accidentally. But still. 

Should he apologize? He thought about it for a few moments, but apologizing would let the older man know that he had inherited his father’s telepathic abilities, and for some reason allowing anyone to find out about that felt like the worst thing he could possibly do. 

“Uh,” he said intelligently, “I have no idea where Jen and Todd are. I just got here, really. Maybe they’re still on their way.” 

“Probably,” Mister Scott replied, and ouch, his voice was like ice. You could feel the hatred dripping off it. “Truth be told, we’re here for you, you have to have some kind of punishment for the way you acted the other day.” 

Which meant the rest of the JSA was here. Great. Great great great great great. Hank had absolutely no idea what kind of punishment they had in mind because he couldn’t think of any type of discipline that required more than one person to be here. 

Slowly, he reached out with his mind, brushing it against the outer reaches of the older man’s, but quickly, he snapped it back. Hank had absolutely no reason to invade the older man’s privacy in such a way. If he wanted any of these people to trust him, he first needed to not peek at things he had no right to see. 

Instead, he allowed Mister Scott to lead him back to the main meeting room, in complete silence, with all attempts to start up a conversation shut down immediately. Eventually, though, they stepped into a room filled with most of the JSA members who had been present the other day. No Robin, and no Wonder Woman, but everyone else was accounted for. 

Hawkman crossed his arms as soon as Hank stepped into the room, and the young telepath found himself edging behind Charles McNider, where it was at least slightly safe. No one would be starting a fight when he was around to be disapproving. Carter sighed at the sight. 

“We’re not here to continue our earlier fight, we’re here because... well, you did tear a hole in our wall, and we’d like some payback for that.” 

Which was going to be difficult since Syl wasn’t currently paying them as much as he would when they were actively fighting crime as a team. That was to say... Hank had no money that wasn’t currently going to food or rent. He couldn’t afford to rebuild the JSA brownstone, and while you might say he should have thought of that in the first place... the truth was he was an idiot. 

“No money? We were expectin’ that,” Wildcat flexed his fingers, allowing his claws to pop out, and Hank hid behind Doctor Mid-Nite even harder if that was possible, “we had a different idea. What was it ya said earlier? ‘I’m sorry already, but being belted by ya isn’t gonna make me feel any better.’ We’re thinkin’... maybe ya deserve ta be belted.” 

There was a sound of a leather belt being loosened from somewhere off to his side, and a quick glance told him that Alan had removed his belt and had looped it around his hand. “Pants down, lean over the table, if you say anything cheeky, that’s another fifty lashes.” 

Fifty lashes?! Christ, Green Lantern would be the absolute worst dom. 

Trying not to think about the fact that being pounded by a group of older men, and more than that, the team that had saved the world more times than he could count, had been a secret fantasy of his for years (gotta find all the ways to stick it to daddy that you can), Hank did as he had been instructed without speaking at all. One thing was nagging at him, though. He just hoped that asking about it wouldn’t be considered ‘cheeky.’ 

“Hold up,” he said, suddenly, “this isn’t just gonna turn into all of you belting me in turn, is it? Because first of all, that’s no fun, and second, GL here is clearly planning on turning my ass into ribbons.” 

“And that’s fifty,” Alan muttered, lifting up his arm so that he could bring it down hard on the ginger’s bare ass. 

Hank sped up his speech, somehow managing to get his next sentence out before pain lanced across his ass. “It’s fine if you fuck me! I mean... I’d like you to fuck me, and since this is a punishment, you can do whatever you want to me-” 

He broke off with a scream as the sound of leather hitting skin rang out throughout the room. A red welt formed on his right ass cheek, and Hawkman looked between that and the door nervously. Sylvester had graciously offered his nephew up to them, but if Jade or Obsidian or Al Rothstein happened to walk in, there was every chance they’d jump to all the wrong conclusions. 

“Don’t get too rough with him, Alan,” Jay timed in. He must have shared Carter’s concerns. 

“You need to take a heavy hand sometimes,” Alan shot back, bringing the belt down a second time, a third time, and then, letting it extend a little more, he brought the fourth strike down vertically across Henry’s crack and the telepath yelped at the sudden stinging pain over his hole. 

Not that Green Lantern seemed to care at all, over and over again, he brought the belt down, ignoring every cry of pain and discomfort that escaped from the redhead’s lips. This was a punishment, and he didn’t have any particular reason to go easy on the lad. Quite the opposite, in fact, since his father had been such a thorn in the JSA’s side for years, Alan wanted to take every single one of the younger man’s father’s crimes out on his ass. 

Since that would get them up into the thousands, though, that was impossible. The flesh of Henry’s ass was already quite red enough as it was, and Jay and Carter would probably be upset with him if he made the lad bleed. 

Henry groaned, grinding his leaking cock against the hardwood of the table, and Alan desperately wanted to punish him for that too; he wasn’t supposed to be turned on by any of this. A sudden flash of rage made him bring the belt down particularly hard, and a line of blood across the redhead’s left globe. Alan stopped instantly, his breaths heavy and his hair wild. He’d gotten slightly out of hand, and he’d definitely overstretched his initial limit by a lot. 

He took a few shaky steps back, indicating to the rest of the JSA that they were free to take over. 

Wildcat approached, whistling as he spread apart the redhead’s cheeks, to get a good look at his hole. “Pretty cute, Al. Ya sure you don’t wanna take him for a spin first? I don’t mind sloppy seconds.” 

When Green Lantern responded, you could hear the disgust in his voice. “I’d never touch him more than absolutely necessary. You have no idea where he’s been, and furthermore, he could still be playing a long con. It’s what his father would do.” 

“Yer loss,” Wildcat said mildly, then, as if realizing that Mister Scott’s comments had probably been hurtful. “He’s still mad about the time yer daddy trapped him with a bunch of two by fours.” 

“Do not tell him about that!” Green Lantern shouted back.

“Okay, kiddo,” Wildcat ignored his teammate, “I promise not to make  ya bleed, I’m thinking of-” he lowered his voice, so the rest of his team could only hear whispers. Obviously, that should have been a source of concern.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I love Hank/Alan the best of any Hank ship, it would have the best slowburn development and it would honestly be fascinating.  
> Also me: *physically incapable of writing the interesting slowburn development because Alan being an asshole is fun to write*
> 
> If I write Alan being like this, it's partially his internalized homophobia and partially that Henry King Sr. really was just that bad.  
> Also wow Stargirl Hank really is different isn't he? I can't get used to him. Where is my sweet boy! *points at Brainwave Sr.* is it you? Is it the obvious abuse?

Fingers ran down his back, exploring the curves of his spine, and it was rapidly becoming clear that Ted Grant was a much more affectionate lover than Mister Scott was. Well, not lover, he really shouldn’t refer to these people like that. Possibly, the phrase he was searching for was ‘much better dom.’ 

Teeth nipped at the skin right beneath his ear, Mister Grant sucking a mark into his flesh, which would immediately be covered up by his costume, so Hank wasn’t really sure about the point of doing all that, but then suddenly the hand on his back was gone, and he was very distracted. A moment later, though, a slicked-up thumb was rubbing against his hole. 

Hank had never been fisted before, and he knew that Mister Grant had not gotten the rest of his teammates' permission to do this. They would probably be upset when they figured out what he was up to since he was just ruining one orifice before they could use it. The thumb popped inside, stretching the pink rim out as it did so, and Hank gave a low whine. 

It was a thick, manly thumb, with knuckles that were swollen from years spent in a boxing ring. Wildcat had large hands, and Hank wasn’t sure if right now that was a turn on or a source of worry. 

“Ah,” he said, swallowing down some of the saliva that had pooled in his mouth, “what if it hurts?” 

“Just tell me ta stop, Kid,” Ted pulled out his thumb and replaced it with his first and second fingers, pumping them in and out of the younger man, “better yet, do somethin’ ya would never do like call me Daddy.” 

“That’s disgusting,” Alan chimed in, and if some small part of Hank was hoping he’d left the room after his turn was done, that hope was dashed. Apparently, he was here to stay. Stay and make commentary. 

Hank, mostly just because he was a spiteful little shit, asked: “What if I want to call you Daddy to make you fuck me harder?” 

There was a pause, and when Mister Grant spoke again, it sounded like he was smirking. “Well, we can do that too if that’s what you want.” 

He added a third finger, fucking the lad roughly, as Hank helpfully chimed in with, “Daddy, please, I can take more, give me another.” With that, a fourth finger slipped in, stretching him out deliciously.

Whether it was because it was taking too long or because he just knew Wildcat that well, Al Pratt stepped forward, standing in front of the telepath, and running his fingers down his jawline. “I’m gonna take his mouth, Ted; I know your old game.” 

“I would never! Not to my old buddy! Go ahead.” 

“Let’s see... there was the time in 42, the time in 73, the time last year...” 

Mister Grant laughed, a low chuckle, and with that, his thumb popped inside. Mister Hawkman made an unpleased noise, and soon there was a rumbling of ‘Ted! Why would you do that?!’ from everyone in the room, but the answer was probably just that he was a man who enjoyed ruining things for everyone else. 

The Atom ran his fingers through Hank’s hair, looking down at him with slightly more tenderness than he was expecting. Without thinking, the telepath allowed their thoughts to intermingle for just a moment, and even though he quickly got that back under control, it was still long enough to pick up just what Pratt had in mind for him. The ginger shivered slightly; it was always the ones you least expected. He wasn’t opposed, though, just surprised. 

The short man dragged down his zipper, and soon the head of his cock was brushing right up against Hank’s lips. Hank might have wanted to have some fun with his balls personally, but there was no reason that he couldn’t track Mister Pratt down later and ask for more. Well, Uncle Syl would probably be disappointed in him, but he didn’t have to find out. Hank opened up his mouth, allowing the man’s cock to slip inside, sliding his tongue down underneath the base as he took it all the way in. 

Wildcat’s mouth was next to his ear again. “Can I move my hand now, or do you need a little more time?” 

Hank gave a shaky thumbs up in response. 

Slowly and shallowly at first, Wildcat began to move his hand, fucking it in and out of the ginger, it might have been a punishment, but ultimately he didn’t want to hurt the lad too badly. Unlike Alan, who seemed to have a weird complex about even touching the younger man, Ted wouldn’t mind having him come back to him. He could always do with a few more rolls in the hay. 

As Henry started to relax more and more, though, with moans of pleasure escaping from around Al’s cock, he started to push deeper and deeper into the younger man’s body, first pushing his entire hand inside, then he slid it in even further. The redhead’s anus almost seemed to be sucking him in as he moved, and soon almost all of his forearm was inside. 

“Good boy,” Wildcat murmured, sounding almost smug. 

“And just what are the rest of us supposed to do?” Hawkman cut in, sounding incredibly annoyed. 

“Shoulda thought of that before lettin’ me go second, Hawk,” Ted replied, now fucking his forearm in and out of the redhead on the table, who was now wailing from the pleasure, squirming and rubbing his clothed dick on the edge of the table. “Don’t even know why you think you’re allowed to complain. Junior loves it.” 

“Ah! I do... I do! Thank you, Daddy, fuck me harder!” Hank pulled off of Al Pratt’s cock to affirm that statement, and the Atom looked incredibly annoyed. There was a gagging noise, likely coming from Mister Scott, but luckily, Wildcat ignored them, shoving his arm in particularly hard, and suddenly, Hank was seeing white, his cum splattering across the table. 

There was a pregnant pause before Hawkman spoke. “Hurry up with his mouth, Pratt, I want it next.”


	3. Chapter 3

Al Pratt’s cock slipped back into his mouth, the taste of sweat somehow still on the underside despite the fact that Hank could have sworn that he’d already licked it clean. He swiped his tongue over it, groaning around it, and then pulled off again, diving down to nuzzle the man’s balls. 

“Please,” Henry murmured, “just let me do this for a second. You taste so good.” He smelt so good, all heady and musky, and the telepath couldn’t help but breathe in deeply. It was embarrassing, but there was something about the taste of men’s sweat that Hank just found incredibly addictive, the smell of it too. He could just bury his face in a dude’s crotch for hours, worship him a little. It was just a shame that most guys wanted to get off as soon as possible. 

Maybe the fact that nothing got him harder than a man who hadn’t showered in a few days wasn’t something that he would have wanted to be revealed in front of the entire JSA, but when Mister Pratt gave him an affirmative response, allowing him access to his balls, all thoughts of that just flew right out of his head, as he took in a deep breath of the dangling testicles, smelling everything. 

Every member of the JSA had had their rate of aging slowed at some point in the 40s; obviously, otherwise, all of them would likely be dead by now, just from the effects of natural aging. Instead of appearing their biological ages, which was likely to be around one hundred in all cases, most of them seemed to be in their late middle ages, somewhere in their late 50s or early 60s. All of that was to say that, while Al Pratt’s balls were already hanging low, the few centimeters of extra length that naturally came with age, they weren’t nearly as low as they could have been. 

Saying all that made Hank sound like he was some kind of old man ball expert, a connoisseur if you would, but that wasn’t really the case. He’d just... had to find some way to pay for college, with his family situation being the way it was, so he might have been with a few older men in his time. At least four or five of them. It wasn’t like he liked old men. He just kept on ending up in sexual situations with them. 

Fingers brushed through his hair again, and Hank blinked in response, slightly startled by the contact. Then he realized that he didn’t know how long he’d been in the same position, just breathing the scent of Mister Pratt in, he’d gotten distracted, and the older man was trying to pull him back to reality. Hank felt his cheeks heat up. 

Trying to cover up his embarrassment, he flicked out his tongue, licking a stripe over the underside of the original Atom’s ball sack, enjoying the taste of the sweat that had pooled there during the course of the day. Had Pratt taken a shower after spending the morning in the gym, it tasted like he hadn’t, and he groaned in pleasure at the thought, palming his already re-hardening cock through the fabric of his costume. 

Sucking one of the low-hanging testicles into his mouth, Hank mouthed at it, suckling at the sensitive skin, swallowing around it, brushing his teeth against it as lightly as he possibly could, all the while fondling the other ball with his hand. He wondered, vaguely, if Mister Pratt could come just from this, except then hands were tugging in the curls of his hair, pulling him off of his balls. 

“Okay, kiddo,” Mister Pratt was saying, “you’ve had your fun. I’m close, and I want to finish off inside your mouth.” 

Somewhat disappointed, the redhead opened his mouth to allow the older man’s cock back inside. He swallowed around it, trying to get back into the rhythm of cocksucking, when Pratt grabbed the back of his head, forcing him downwards until he’d taken all of it inside. The original Atom was a short man, although the size of his dick was in no way proportional to his height, and he was the biggest on the JSA by far... or at least Hank assumed that would be the case because if anyone else on the team was bigger, that meant they had to be packing a monster cock. 

In fact, he was rapidly joining team ‘Wildcat was right to fist Mister Pratt’s sex partners before he could fuck them, because how the fuck would they be able to take it otherwise?’ He gagged around the dick as it slammed into the back of his throat, unused to the feel of something so thick blocking his airways. 

Not that the Atom was willing to let him pull back to breathe. No, he was much more interested in chasing his own release. He gripped either side of the ginger’s head, fucking his head up and down on his cock as if he were a fleshlight or an onahole. 

“Gngggmmmm,” Hank gagged around it. The only thing he could do was make desperate noises, as he could feel the edges of his eyes start to darken. Just before he lost consciousness, Pratt slammed his hips forward one last time, and cum filled his mouth, almost too fast for him to swallow it all down. 

The short man brushed a thumb over Hank’s reddened lips as he pulled out. “You look so pretty like this. Think you can drink down all of Hawkman’s piss like a good boy? I’ll give you a reward if you do.” 

“’supposed to be a punishment.” Hank murmured, “Mister Scott would be really angry if you turned this into something that wasn’t a punishment.”

Pratt hummed, a nasty-looking grin on his face as he regarded Alan across the room, the original Green Lantern was still looking entirely disinterested, leaning on the door with his arms crossed. “Well, no one laid down any rules about what we could do afterward.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Oh right, I also forgot that the next time I wrote a smut fic I was gonna mention that this event is doing nominations: https://smut4smut.dreamwidth.org/


End file.
